The Price of Fear; Cat's Cradle

The price of fear brought to you by a Vinson price. Hello there. Do you own a cat, or rather I should say, does a cat own you? Doesn't it strike you as strange? That despite centuries of domestication, cats have never really lost their independence, their ruthlessness. To cat's life is still the lower of the jungle. Just try taking liberties with your cat. Be he never so tame and you'll soon be put in your place. I've always had a healthy respect for cats, despite that one time when I was forced to. Oh, but let me tell you about it. I think I'll call the story cat's cradle.

Several years ago I was making a movie in Germany and there was some sort of hold up during shooting, a tiresome and boring state of affairs that happens all too often. And I found myself with some days on my hands, so I decided to visit some of the beautiful old castles of Bavaria. Hi on my itinerary was Sonderberg in Franconia near the Burtonberg border. Sonderberg tends to get overlooked by the main tourist trade. Yet it is one of the most complete examples I know of a medieval market town which has survived comparatively intact. I checked in at one of the local hotels late one afternoon and while they were getting my room ready I sat down at one of the little tables near the door and ordered a drink, a large tankard of their local beer actually. At the next table sat a young couple whispering intently but their voices were angry and out of control and as I sat enjoying my beer it was impossible not to overhear.

That they were deep in some childish tip. Beth the god's sake stop talking nonsense. How dare you say it's nonsense. It is nonsense and you know it. I never even looked at the damn woman. I don't know how you can be so careless. Did you see how disgustingly fat she was? I tell you I didn't notice at all. Liar. Oh shut up. Oh god what a start to married life. Oh look Beth, you're tired. I'm tired. It's all been a strain. Let's not say things we'll be sorry for. Let's have an early night. The next best thing to your German house brow. For the last time I didn't fancy her. If you're going to carry on like this every time I look at another woman you'd better tear my ruddy eyes out. Ah so now you admit you looked at her. Oh for heaven's sake. The young man glanced on easily in my direction obviously wondering if I'd become an involuntary eavesdropper. Of course I had and I certainly had no intention of making myself scarce.

Isn't this a charming town? Yes charming. Delightful. Are you on vacation? No. That is we... We're on our honeymoon. Oh are you? Are you indeed? Well what an ideal place to spend it. We haven't exactly succumbed to its charms yet. We've only just arrived. Well give it time. Sondaberg is a step back into the past. It takes a while before its charm begins to work. It's certainly quiet you know. I was here once years ago and I always promised myself a return visit. Then it seemed like an oasis in a desert of insanity. Yes I suppose so. Except of course that Sondaberg has had its own fair share of horrors you know. Well that's good. What delightful beer this is so refreshing. A duke on this. Well the castle. Do you see it up on that rock?

Yes. Look through the window there. Well that was taken over as a headquarters for the inquisition. Oh the poor wretches who were incarcerated and tortured up there. I saw the castle as we drove in. It was beautiful but it made me shudder. It's not surprising. The inquisition left several pleasant little mementos. All in is good a state of preservation as Sondaberg itself. You must visit the place while you're here. Well that is if you're not squeamish. Squeamish? Look I've got an idea. Why don't we join up and go round the castle together tomorrow? Well please do. Unless that is you're already busy. Well no but we'd love it wouldn't we Beth? Yes. Yes of course we would. At first I couldn't understand the young man's enthusiasm. I mean after all the honeymoon is a honeymoon. Then it struck me that he needed a defense mechanism and I would be there to guard him from the kind of rower that I'd stumbled upon just now.

Well at any rate we agreed to meet in the hotel lobby at 10 o'clock in the morning. As events turned out I needn't have worried about breaking the idyllic atmosphere because as we were about to set off. Good God it can't be. Price it's you it really is. Hello Malcolm. Now what are you doing in this neck of the woods? I don't tell me the force due out of the retaries had lost. Malcolm Rivers was one of the world's prize boars. If the first prize in a competition were a part in one of Malcolm's movies the second prize would have been a part in two of Malcolm's movies. Scouting locations oh son. You see that castle up there? It's just right for a new horror picture we've got. I'd love you to read it. It's a great script. Malcolm I'm on vacation. Can we discuss this later or better still see my age? Yeah yeah but look just let me tell you.

At this point our taxi arrived. It was as battered as its driver but we'd all agreed to leave our own transport behind. The trouble was when Malcolm heard the driver announce that he had come for the castle party he insisted on coming with us. Castle? Well you don't mean to say you're actually going there? Yes. Great. I can actually show you where it all takes place. Well I'm telling you about it. Malcolm I... No come on don't be so coy. You're worse than a virgin on a wedding night. I just couldn't shake him off. You never could with Malcolm. That's how he'd hustled his way to the top. Now he attached himself to us like an incubus. The film's all about the Sonderbergs. You know the family. It's sort of... ...pagent of atrocity. I wanted to step back and look objectively at what each one did. Now take Elisa for instance. Well I can't speak for the others. I was doing my best not to listen.

The castle for those who don't know it is built on an immensely steep rock dominating the town. And on its north inside is surrounded by a moat which has long since been filled in. At the foot of the wall is a very pleasant garden with little sheltered seats. Sitting there is a good way of recovering from the rather overpowering tour around the castle. The girl was right. There still was a sinister aura cleaning to the place, which even a heart and cheerful summer's morning couldn't entirely disappear. And they broke in and found the girl strung up by the wrists and with the hot coals. Incredible story. Of course we can't actually put all that into the picture but we can imply a hell of a lot. You've got to admit it's a damn good commercial plot line. No that's why it's so important to get the feel of the place where it happened. We want to get right away from the studio. Look how they can go out and shoot a police picture in real occasions or why not a horror picture. Now the seventh count was a real character.

This, this you've got to hear. Mr. Rivers, do you mind if we change the subject? My wife is feeling a bit faint. Oh that's too bad Mrs. We haven't even seen the torture tower yet. Now say would your lady wife like to wait for us out here? She could sit down there in the car. Oh no I don't want to miss anything. I'm quite alright. I think it was probably just that steep hill and the heat. You go on Malcolm. We'll catch up with you later. Oh no no I wouldn't dream of it. Stick together through seconds and that's my motto. Oh I know look at that. It's sweet. It can't be more than six weeks old. It was a tiny black kitten which was playing with its mother near one of the seats in the garden just below us. The cat had a great sleek creature whose coat shone in the sun. They stretched on the grass and the kitten romped around nearer.

The mother would waver tail for the kitten to try to clutch with its paw or raise her feet to push the little one away as an encouragement to further efforts. It was a charming sight. The birth has been onto me to buy her a cat as soon as we were married. Now I'll get no peace. Oh Jack, I'd like to take them both. I wonder who they belong to. They're not straight. Isn't that for sure? Look at the condition of the mother's coat. Probably but onto the castle. It'd be great for the picture. Met a touch of atmosphere. Here, here, here, push. Now come leave them alone. They can't get up the wall anyway. It's far too steep. Yes, yes, you're right. Oh look at the size of the mother. We don't grow cats like that in England. Wait just a minute. Here we are. What are you doing? Well I'll just throw this stone to attract their attention. Oh, not a chance. Nobody will take me for it. I may produce movies but I'm not all that bad.

I'll just aim it so it lands near them. Make them look up. You ever seen the expression on a cat's face when it startled? Well, well watch. Oh no! God, look what you've done. I never meant to do that. Maybe the wall wasn't as sheer as it looked. Maybe there was a concealed angle at its base which we couldn't see. Whatever the reason, Malcolm's aim wasn't as true as he thought. I truly believe that he only intended to startle those cats. But when he leaned over the wall and threw the stone, it landed with a sickening third right on the kitten's head and shattered out its little brains there and then. Oh boy! The mother cast a swift upward glance and I saw her eyes flash like green fire as she stared for an instant at Malcolm Rivers. Then her attention was given to the kitten.

After one quiver it lay still, while a thin red trickle oozed from a gaping wound. Oh poor thing. I would have had this happen for the world. I can't understand it. The cat was a situously licking the kitten's wound and then suddenly she stopped. She must have realized that it was dead and that her administrations were useless. For all at once she appeared to lose all interest in the pathetic little body. Instead she looked again at Rivers and in that look was all the concentration of primitive hate. Her green eyes blazed and the blood which dabbled her mouth and whiskers made her look for all the world like an avenging fury. There Malcolm I hope you're satisfied that's something for your horror film and you have the consolation of knowing it's real blood and not vegetable dye. Oh don't rub it in, I feel bad enough as it is.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, of course you do. I love cats, I really do! My outburst was a relief, I felt slightly ashamed, I realized how painfully vulnerable the man really was. I turned my attention to the cat, she was now attempting to claw her way up the wall. When this failed she tried to launch herself into the air, eyes blazing, claws distended and then she fell back. Let's go on, I can't bear anymore. Do you want to go home? We can come back tomorrow. I think a brandy would do you good, I think a brandy would do us all good. No, I don't want to go back to the hotel, I want to see the castle, let's go on. In face of her obvious determination there was nothing else we could do. At least the tour would divert her mind or so we hoped. And we also hoped that Malcolm would be deterred from prattling on about his inane script, but no. I really expect to figure out some great vibrations in the torture tower.

It's just over there. You can't expect to involve your audience unless you're involved yourself. Now that's the basic rule, you've got to be convinced. That's why so many movies are just laughable. Nobody is convinced, least of all the makers. I remember one crazy scene. That's okay. As Malcolm laughed, I looked back at the cat. She too had heard and her whole demeanor seemed to change. She no longer tried to jump or run up the wall, but instead began to lick and fumble the dead kitten as if it were alive. Then she took it in her mouth and began to follow us until we reached the limit of the wall's boundary. I thought I was the only one who noticed, but I was wrong. Mr. Rivers, I know this may sound silly, but I think that cat means to do you harm. Oh, now that I like.

Oh, let's keep a sense of proportion about this. Well, I'm terribly sorry about what happened, but I refuse to avoid dark alleys over a damn cat. Besides, she probably has a litter of others under some bush. Yes, Beth. I think you're being melodramatic. Do you? Look, Beth, are you sure you wouldn't rather call it a day? If I haven't said stop fussing, I said I was all right, didn't I? Or are you trying to get rid of me? Oh, no, don't stop that again. All I was trying to do was to give Mr. Rivers a perfectly reasonable warning. I think all our tempers are a little frayed. Well, here's the tower entrance. Shall we go in? I tried to sound unconcerned, but somewhere in the back of my mind I had a sneaking feeling that the girl was probably right. At first we could see nothing.

The darkness seemed incarnate, surrounding, stifling us like a blanket. The four of us just stood there waiting for the use of our eyes to return. We were in the lower chamber. The thin sunlight, filtering in through a tiny window, seemed to lose itself in the thickness of the walls, which were coated with the dust of centuries. Here and there were patches of dark stain. Only rivers, naturally, remained comparatively unmoved. Not much room for cameras down here. Still, I suppose we could manage. Excuse me, but you are English? Yes, well, three of us are. I think you are English are interested in tortures. You would like to see our collection. Yes, the best in job. Thank you very much, perhaps you could show us around. Do you feel her full of me, please? You are my first part of the day. The main collection is on the floor above. I think you will find them interesting.

I remember the wealth of stories about the legendary cruelty of the counts of Sandaberg and, of course, their ladies. It was said that they had found a legitimate outlet for their bloodlusts by channeling them into the service of the officers of the inquisition. None of your half-measures here. Well, look at all that. Oh, John. We found ourselves in a room full of torture instruments. Chairs full of spikes which gave instant and excruciating pain. Steel cages in which the head could slowly be crushed into a pop. Racks, belts, boots, gloves, collars, and all around the world. Great headsman swords, evil, keen-edged weapons that would decapitate with one slash and nearby blocks where the victims' necks had lain with deep notches where the steel had bitten through the guard of flesh and shored into the wood.

We all found ourselves speechless in the face of this bestial evidence of man's inhumanity to man. All that is except Malcolm Rivers. Unbelievable. Just what we need. It's too good to be true. It really is. You see, it's perfect for a set-up just here. It's a question of getting permission to use this stuff, but... I wonder what the formalities are. Hey, let me just sit in that chair, moment. Wow. Rivers was behaving with his usual insensitivity, but there was something more. I think the others shared the feeling with me that it was sacrilegious. An odd word to use, I know, but there was something sacred about the place. It was a temple, but a temple to evil. Now, over here is a madam. It's a famous instrument of the inquisition.

One might almost say the most famous and still in perfect work in order. The old man pointed to the main object in this chamber of ours. The iron virgin, a copy of the famous one at Nuremberg. The contraption was covered in rust and dust, except for the face, which was oddly fresh-looking as if the custodian had scrubbed it. While the figure was curved in the shape of a woman, it was just broad enough for a man to fit inside, as we could see when the door was opened. The door itself was enormously thick and was worked open and shut by a thick chain, running through a pulley attached to a heavy beam in the roof. When the weight was released, the door would slam shut. The devilish nature of the iron virgin was truly revealed when you examined the inside of the door. A number of iron spikes were fixed there, and when the victim was placed inside it and the door closed,

the upper spikes would pierce his eyes and the lower ones his heart and vitals. What a charming toy. Oh, God, look at the blood stains. It's hard to watch out blood completely, man. There are some who say this comes back anyway. I think I can believe this place is haunted. And on that happy note, I vote to make a hollied exit. That suits me. Let's go and have that drink we promised ourselves. Are we right now? No, no, no, wait. What's up this time for God's sake? Hey you, old man. Now how big is that space? What? The space inside. I want to see if I can get here. Oh! But I told you, I'd like sampling your experiences. Our Malcolm realism is one thing. Non-certains, courage of your convictions and all that. Now come on, squat. I need your help on this. Very good, sir. If you insist. You're not serious. I'm sure I am. Yeah. That's a tight fit. Even if grown some since those days, I've been all managed.

Yeah. See? You are not really allowed to lose this. If anyone found out I might get into trouble. Why should anyone find out? I might even lose my job. Okay, okay, I'll get you a price. Give me something, will you? Oh, well, I'll settle with you later. I think this is all very silly. All in the cause of heart. Well, I feel one won't go and see his beastly film. That my dear makes two of us. Hey, what's all the whispering about? Oh, here you are. Two, four, six. Thank you, sir. Oh, thank you, sir. But where do you think that was? Square your conscience? Oh, yes, sir. I think it's square. Very nicely. Now that you've had your little game, can we all go? Go, if you like. I'm not stopping you. I'm staying here. Oh, come on, now come. Now come. Nothing. I've really enjoyed this. Live dangerously. That's my motto. Charlie, now I'm passing the door. But, sir.

Can't somebody stop us? Now, can you pad your little joke? But enough is enough. Enough hell. You, Charlie, do. It was I tell you. Now, start knitting that door down. But slowly. Very, very slowly. Despite his reluctance, the old man did, as he was told. He worked the machine with a deliberate and excruciating slowness, in which the outer edge of the door hadn't moved half five inches in as many minutes. The whole ridiculous charade had a kind of macabre thrill about it. It was a scene from Malcolm's horror film played exclusively for our benefit. And then I saw her. The cat. I don't think the others noticed it first. They were too intent on watching the progress of that door. Even rivers had ceased to chatter.

In the far corner of the chamber, dark, untamable forces were gathered. Her green, bailful eyes shone like danger lamps. And as I peered at her, I could see that their color was heightened by the blood, which still smeared her coat and reddened her mouth, and still slowly inexorably with the precision of an expert, the old man went on working that door. Even then, I wasn't sure what the animal intended to do or even if she intended to do anything until suddenly. The cat. Look out for the cat. The cat launched herself not at Malcolm, but at the luckless custodian. The eyes blazed with ferocity. Her hair bristle till she seemed twice her normal size. Her tail lashed out like a tiger's when the quarry is before it. The cat's claws found one of his eyes, and I actually saw her tear through it,

and down his cheek, leaving wide bands of red, where the blood seemed to spurt from every vein. Look out, look out, because hold it. With a yell of agony and terror, the man let back, dropping the chain, which held back the door. It ran like a lightning strike. And the massive doors slammed shut. In the instant before the door had closed, I saw Malcolm's face. His eyes stared as if dazed, and for once in his life, he was speechless. Dad, help me get the door open. For God's sake, help me. I'm coming. Beth, stay where you are. For God's sake, don't look. The end must have been quick, for when we managed to wrench the door open, the spikes had done their work. They had pierced, right through the skull, so that as the door opened, the body came with it, and he fell to the floor, face turned upwards. Get your wife out of here.

She needs there. I'll attend to the old man. Right. Oh, okay. The old custodian was leaning against her, the old custodian was leaning against the wooden pillar, holding his reddening hangt of to his eyes. While on the face of poor rivers, there sat the cat, purring loudly as she licked the blood, which trickled through the gashed sockets of his eyes. I pushed her away from her ghoulish meal, and well, I hope no one will call me cruel, because I seized one of the old executioners' swords from its rack on the wall, and with one slash, sure her into on the spot. Poor Malcolm, he'd had his total experience, a good deal more total than he bargained for, because he wasn't it. You see what I mean about cats?

You never can tell. That was Vincent Price, bringing you the price of fear. Also starring in this story, Cat's Cradle, were Kenneth J. Warren, and Frederick Shekker. That was Vincent Price, bringing you the price of fear. Also starring in this story, Cat's Cradle, J. Warren, and Frederick Shekker, with John Samson, and Bonnie Harren. Cat's Cradle was first recanted as the score by Bram Stoker, dramatized by Richard Davis, and produced by John Dias. Cat's Cradle.

Cat's Cradle. Cat's Cradle.